Goodbye, Again
by Unstoppable Cyborg
Summary: Thirty-three years after Marinette and Adrien find out each other's identities, she reflects back upon her life. Rated for vague dark themes. Somewhat AU and OOC due to being written prior to show.


**Disclaimer: If I owned Miraculous LadyBug, we wouldn't have a guy who wielded pigeons as a villain. Pigeons are not villainous; pigeons are cute. Naturally, I do not share Marinette's views on pigeons (nor the view upon pigeons held by Adrien, Plagg, or Tikki). However, this story is not about pigeons. Well, no more than the average fic for this fandom is.**

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For most couples, their big anniversary was of their wedding, the day they got together, or the day they met. For Marinette and Adrien, it wasn't one of those days. The day she had met her husband had, at least in her opinion, been split between the first day of lycée and a night that was shortly after, when she had just become Ladybug. She supposed that perhaps another huge day for her was when they had brought an end to Hawk Moth and his reign of petrifying horror, but that wasn't as truly important to her as today was. There were also several days that were more important, such as the days they had adopted their children, or another of the days that were important milestones in their children's lives. But for just the two of them, four of them if you counted the kwami, it was the most important one.

"It's been thirty-three years since we found out," she said into the cool Parisian night. "And even to this day, I can't help but wonder what took us so long." In a few moments, it would be exactly thirty-three years since they had revealed their identities to each other. Ladybug smiled as the seconds crept by, as if tiptoeing around her as not to disturb them.

"It's hard to believe that Lucinde's going to be graduating lycée this year, isn't it? It feels like just yesterday that we were meeting with her birth mother so that she'd be able to tell what type of family her daughter would be growing up in. We weren't exactly honest, though, right? I kind of doubt that Floriane would have let us raise Lucinde if she had known about our double lives. I'm just glad that the kids haven't ever been taken hostage, but I still hope she's either studying or sleeping right now, though. I mean, she's old enough to be left home alone with her siblings, but I still worry. What if something happens? And I don't trust that boyfriend of hers completely. It might just be the fact that he has a pet pigeon, but still. I don't care if Pigeon-Guy was killed by a drunk driver decades ago, it's just not normal to take a flying rat as a pet.

"I think people are forgetting Hawk Moth and everything he did. I mean, butterflies are coming back into fashion. _Heavily stylized_ butterflies, that is. I don't care if he named himself after a moth, moths may as well be butterflies, especially given how colorful the akumas are. Were. I mean, its been years since any of us have seen any traces of them, but they might still be out there. Hmmph. I hope that our successors won't hold the same views as most of the young people in France seem to. True, the youth of this day and age weren't even born yet, and we're considered old by them because we were teenagers when half of Paris was destroyed, but still. You'd think that people wouldn't bounce back so easily. Well, _I'm_ most definitely not going to be using any butterfly designs in any of my works, even if it knocks me down a few notches. The kids and I will still manage quite well."

A car honked rather loudly in the distance, breaking the woman from her rants and reveries. "Well," she said, "I guess it's time to go on patrol. You'd think that after all this time, Paris wouldn't need saving every night, but at least its been pretty quiet lately. Just lowlifes and thugs, not superhuman-megalomaniacs trying to take over the world every five seconds. I swear, how did we make it through lycée without failing a single class, what with how many sleepless nights spent keeping evil at bay and sometimes defeating it.

"Oh, I almost forgot, I have something for you," she said, reaching into a pocket dimension. After a while, she had learned to make use of the space used to store her clothes when she was in her Ladybug form, or her suit and weapons when she was Marinette. From that space, she procured a red rose, not unlike the ones he would offer to her while he had been desperately attempting to court her (which she had rejected in turn, of course), and then would occasionally offer to her over the years that followed. With a flourish, she genuflected and held the flower out to him. Her face fell as her free hand touched the cold stone. Ladybug kissed the rose prior to giving it to him. He didn't exactly take it, but he didn't reject it either.

Ladybug straightened up, her eyes closed beneath her spotted mask. Tears still managed to escaped her eyes, however. "I'll talk to you later," she said, her voice wavering. "Who knows, maybe next time you'll say something." Both the kwami within her and the one without stiffened as she said those words.

"Are you okay, Marinette? I don't sense anything major; we don't have to do this if you don't want to," Tikki said to her.

"I'm fine," she replied, wiping her eyes and plastering a smile on her face.

"Are you sure? Wouldn't want you to get hurt physically because of the weight emotional pain. Like you said, things have been pretty quiet lately," said the bad luck wielder.

"No, really, I'm fine," said Ladybug, straightening her black pigtails, which were giving way to gray. She raised a questioning eyebrow as her thoughts once again returned to him. Would black cat ears turn gray with age? Would she ever find out? She doubted it.

"I love you, Adrien," she vowed. Those words used to make her soul fly, and help her to soar above Paris. But as she now flew solo, they forced her soul to spiral downwards as pain flooded it. Tears began to leak from her eyes once again. They turned into sobs, and so she held her body because no one else would. Eventually, her tears ran dry. Without a further word, she stood up and turned away from her husband's grave. It had been four years, three months, and a day since he had been taken three bullets to the torso and a knife wound to the back. Marinette pushed away the memories that threatened to incapacitate her like they always did. No, she couldn't let herself remember how it felt to leave his corpse behind. _It's always goodbye each and every time, but I can't bring myself to not prolong hello,_ she thought to herself, keeping her thoughts far from Tikki.

The good luck kwami truly meant well, but she also worried far too much. Marinette didn't need anyone to worry over her, she needed to worry over everyone else. It was what kept her sane when she was going through painful times, knowing that she could keep her family safe. The facts that she was fragile and hadn't been able to keep her husband safe tore at her soul, slowly shredding it. Tikki's incessant worrying only frayed it more. No, she had to keep the kwami from worrying; she had to fly solo.


End file.
